


Or Maybe It's Mine?

by yourterritory (orphan_account)



Category: Waterparks (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23407999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/yourterritory
Summary: So this originally started as a lesbian short story, but I thought, why not turn this into a shitty fan fiction, for a ship that no one believes in, except the people who responded to my calls into the empty void that is Tumblr (which is where you should follow me (@yourterritory)) but yeah? First fan fiction? Not too excited about it... kind of don't want to put it out, but if you're reading this, then I put it out. sad. ANYWAYS enough talking, here is probably the worst thing you've ever read.
Relationships: Awsten Knight/Otto Wood
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Or Maybe It's Mine?

**Author's Note:**

> ew

All my life has been spent in the dullest of forms. Not that I don’t have adventure or fun, but everything I see is in black and white. I haven’t ever seen color, but I've heard the wonderful stories of those who have. They explain how wonderful everything would look, but it's nothing that I can fathom. I just wish I could see it too.

I’ve heard that you can only see the color when you are near your soulmate. It’s a strange concept that I’ve never been able to grasp. In my seventeen years of life, I've never fallen in love with someone. Sure, I’ve dated and such, but I’m assuming it’s not the same thing. There was one person once who told me that he could see color whenever I was near him, but I usually just laughed. Because what a stupid concept, that someone could love me. 

I thought that I would forever stay alone, until I went to college. There I met someone who I inevitably thought would be my one and only. His name is Awsten. 

We met each other in the most classic of ways. By that, I mean we were roommates. He chose the right side, so I refrained to the left. He organized every nook and cranny of his space, and mine was the messiest you’d ever see. He drank tea, and I chose coffee. 

I got to the dorm first, but I didn’t choose a side yet. I wanted to make sure he’d be happy too, so I just sat down on top of my bags and waited for her to come around. Only a few moments later, a guy with bleached tips and kind looking eyes walked in. He was wearing a t-shirt that hugged his slim figure perfectly. I wouldn’t say that it was love at first sight, but it was the first time I was at a loss for words because of beauty.

I immediately stood up and shook his hand saying, “Hi, I’m Otto.”

He flashed a smile that warmed my soul and said, “I’m Awsten, it’s so nice to meet you.”

Our hands stayed grasped for a little longer than they should have, but I made sure to be the first to pull away. I didn’t want to come off as strange to this guy that just walked into my dorm and my life. 

“So, which side do you want?” I ask, wanting to fill time.

“Can I take the right? If you want to take that side, I’m totally fine with the left.” He says, placing his bag on the floor.

Not only is this guy beautiful, but he’s considerate. Maybe love does exist. 

“I’m fine with the left. I slept on that side at home, so it will remind me of there.” I respond, eager to not disappoint him. 

“Thank you so much.” Awsten picks up his duffel and throws it onto his bed with ease. Strong, check.

“Do you mind if I play some music?” I ask, because silence is deadly to me. 

“Yeah, no problem. As long as it’s not country, I can’t stand that shit.” he responds, unzipping his bag and pulling out piles of shirts. I rummage through my duffel until I find a CD and a player for it. I decided to play a band that people used to hate on me for, but I have a feeling he won’t. A man’s voice and electric guitars fill the room. 

I couldn’t tell at first, but after a few songs, I notice Awsten is singing along. 

“You like My Chemical Romance?” I ask, turning around.

“Obsessed is a better word,” he turns to put away a pile of shirts and before I know it, it’s happening. Light starts filtering through the room and, ... color? Color starts covering every space of the room until I’m caught up in the beauty of it all. It expanded from her chest outwards and it covered everything with the most beautiful glow. I have to take a few steps back because it’s too much for me to handle. I’m shocked and overtook by all that’s happening. 

“Are you okay?” he says, and each strand of his hair is illuminated by a creamy shade of I don’t even know what. It looks like how honey and magnolias would look. “I hope it isn’t that surprising that I like the same music as you.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s, it’s just you-it’s so beautiful” Goddammit Otto.

“That’s a word for it.” he says. Goddammit, stupid heart. I don’t need to deal with this much beauty at once. It’s too much. Say something.

“Now we can get a sign for the door that says something.” I get out. Since when did talking become so hard?

“Yes! And I’m good at lettering!” His eyes light up more, if that’s even possible. My eyes see too much, and I’m overtaken. “I could make it, if you want.”

“Of course. Is there anywhere to get some materials?” I ask, knowing this will allow me into even more time spent with him.

“Yeah, I saw an art store on the way here, and I always bring pens with me wherever I go.” he says, walking back to his bag and producing a box of expensive pens. Artist: Check. The room swells along with my heart. I can’t take it anymore, so I sit on the edge of my bed. But even when I close my eyes, I still see him and all the color of the room.

“Let me finish some shirts, then we can go.” he says, turning the music back on.

A few hours later we’re sitting on the edge of a beach sharing tacos and a Pina Colada. he has a tote with poster board, glue, and cake mix. We decided to have a little celebration of our own when we get to our temporary home. The sun is beginning to set, and my senses are being rocketed to infinity. It’s all too beautiful.

“So where are you from?” I ask him to fill the void created by crashing waves. My hand graces his when he puts her napkin down

“I’m from Huston. Like Beyonce.” he says. A breeze kicks in, washing away the California heat, and he tips his head back. “I love the ocean so much.”

His hand is still resting on mine, and I want to yell at my heart to calm down. My eyes overtake me between the beauty of him and of the ocean. It’s no use to fight it. “Of course I know where Beyonce is from.” A certain unnamed feeling hits me again, and I tilt my head back too. 

“Wait, where are you from?” he snaps his head up and looks at me.

“I'm also from Huston.” I look at her without lifting my head up. 

He looks at me for a moment before saying, “Of course. I see it now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, everything is pulsing a soft glow of color. 

“I don’t know.” She says, leaning back again. I wait for him to say something else, but I’m greeted by the sound of crashing waves. 

“I love the sound of the ocean too.” he smiles, and it gets me every time

“It cooks for 40 minutes, right?” Awsten shouts over Famous Last Words. I rummage through our trash, because I always throw away the box after making the batter. 

“45,” I shout back. The song changes and I stand up. “At 350.”

“It’s always at 350.” he responds. “Now what in the world are we going to do for 45 minutes.” I think for a moment, but the only thought coming to mind is to kiss him. 

“I don’t know. Oh. Why don’t we get to know each other?” I try.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he starts cleaning up the bowls, so I walk over to help him. I don’t know if he’s flirting or not, but my heart is beating in tune to the pulse of the color in the space. 

“We could ask each other basic questions that lead to unique conversations.” I suggest, winking. That might have been excessive, but fortune favors the flirtatious.   
“So you’re also poetic.” he responds, and boy do I start blushing. 

“I try, I guess.” I respond.

“So you write poetry. How else do you spend your time?” he asks, leaning closer. My first instinct is to kiss him, but no, you don’t know if he sees it too. 

“I like playing and listening to music, so I was in a few bands. But they all ended somehow. We never got that big, but we liked to pretend we did. After they ended, I just found myself filling time with SAT prep.” I say back, making sure to have eye contact, but not to make it too intense. I want to make it seem like it’s not that big of a deal. 

“Me too!” The soft vibrations of the room come back. “What’d you play?”

“I played drums and sometimes bass. What did you do?” I return the question.

“I played guitar and sang some words I wrote. When nerves didn’t take over and such.” he says. By the way her face lights up, I can tell that these 45 minutes will go fast. 

“That’s neat” I say, trying to act calm about this. It might be working.

“You want to start a band?” he asks genuinely. 

“My band days are over, but I’ll make an exception for you.” Fortune favors the flirtatious, I tell myself again. 

Everything lights up, and I feel as though my heart is going to explode, from all of these emotions. 

“What should we call ourselves?” I can tell he’s thinking because he’s had the same expression every time I’ve asked him a question. “I have no clue, but whatever we do, we will be incredible. I have a friend who works in the industry that may be able to help us.”

“We should probably focus on making the actual songs first.” You wouldn’t want someone to take a chance on you and have nothing to offer up. 

“Right,” he says. “I have so many ideas”

After the communal kitchen is clean and the cake is gone, and the poster is up, we’re both leaning against the wall behind my bed. I try to remember what we were talking about, but I just can’t. Only a feeling of warmth and belonging comes to mind. A soft glow from her lamp across the room lights us up. Everything is so beautiful, so I lean my head into his neck. 

“You tired already?” He asks, poking at my forehead. 

I look up at him. Even in this dim light, the color showcases his every freckle, the exact pattern of her iris, and everything in between. “No, you just smell good.”

Because we’re so close, I can feel his pulse speed up a slight bit. Or maybe it's mine? Who knows. 

“Thank you. I’m glad one of us thinks that.” 

A huge grin sweeps across my face. I kiss his hand. “Just let me know if you’re going to borrow my CDs.” I say.

Awsten grabs the nearest cups, which contain a half drunken pina colada and some coffee. “I’d like to make a toast. “I smile and grab the coffee mug “To many more nights like this.” 

“To many more nights like this” I tip my mug against his paper cup, and drink the rest of the coffee. It wants to come up, but I force it back down. He takes a few goes at the pina colada, but decides it's too sweet for this hour, and ends up putting it next to my mug. 

I stare into his eyes and he stares back into mine. God, this is so beautiful, he’s so beautiful. Everything is flowing with color, and it's almost overwhelming. It is so goddamn beautiful, I almost   
convince myself of burrowing back into his sweet smelling sweater. Love creates happiness, as they say. 

“May I?” I ask, hoping he’ll know what I mean.

“Of course.” he responds, looking deeper into my eyes. Why do I just now realize how beautiful his eyes are?

I lean forward and he tilts his head into mine. I am not kissing a man I met less than 10 hours ago. I am not willing to do anything he wants. I am not pretending like I know what I know what I’m doing when it comes to loving a man. I am not in love with this only-a-first-name person. It just doesn’t work that way. 

But I am seeing color behind my eyelids. I am seeing a life together with him in between our hurried breaths. This is a truth that I will accept. 

“Oh it’s so beautiful.” I say, rushed. 

“What is?” He says.

“The color-” I take in a deep breath, because I can’t control anything other than that. “The color that’s filling the room.” 

He stops. “You’re just another that claims you see it. I hope that one day too, I will be able to see this color.”

Our lips didn’t touch again.

**Author's Note:**

> ew


End file.
